The sound of running water echoed faintly through the dormitory bathroom.
Soren splashed his face once, then again, staring at the sink until the ripples blurred.
It was the third morning since Lilliana had come to see him.
The memory of that first day still lingered; the warmth of the tea, the sound of her voice, the sunlight in the garden.
It had been the first time in months that he had felt so… calm.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, he almost looked like his old self again.
Almost.
The circles under his eyes were still there, and the faint tremor in his hands hadn't gone away, but the hollow emptiness that used to sit in his chest wasn't as heavy anymore.
He exhaled slowly and grabbed the cloak from the chair.
The world outside still felt sharp, but no longer impossible.
When he stepped into the corridor, the morning light flooded through the tall windows.
Students walked in small groups, laughing and greeting each other after the long break.
Soren moved quietly between them, his hood pulled low.
He wasn't ready to talk to anyone, not yet, but walking was fine.
It was progress.
He headed toward the back courtyard.
The air was cool and smelled faintly of morning dew.
Somewhere in the distance, the academy bell chimed softly; a signal of the hour.
He was reminded once again that classes would start again soon, but he didn't know if he would be able to attend.
For now, he just needed air.
The garden path behind the faculty dormitories came into view, and his steps slowed.
He hadn't planned to go there, but his body moved before his mind decided.
The image of Lilliana's smile when she handed him the rose flickered in his head.
He wasn't sure why he remembered that part the clearest.
When he reached the gate, he paused.
His hand trembled briefly, and he hesitated for a moment, then pushed the gate open.
The garden looked almost the same as before; neat, bright and alive.
Lilliana was kneeling by a row of herbs, her sleeves rolled up, and her bangs brushed back by a hairband.
A few petals had caught the fabric of her shawl.
She looked peaceful.
She looked up when the gate creaked, and her face brightened instantly.
"Ren! Good morning."
Soren blinked.
He hadn't expected her to sound that happy just to see him.
"Morning," he said quietly.
"You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep."
Her smile softened a little.
"Then I'm glad you came here instead of staring at the ceiling."
She motioned toward the bench under the tree.
"Sit down for a bit. I'll be done soon."
He hesitated for a moment but obeyed.
The bench was warm from the morning sun.
He kept his cloak wrapped tight around his shoulders and watched her work.
Each motion was precise but gentle; she handled every leaf as if it were a treasure.
After a while, she spoke without turning.
"Would you like to help?"
"...I'll just slow you down."
"I don't mind."
He looked at the small patch of empty soil beside her.
Something in her tone, casual yet inviting, made it difficult to say no.
He knelt down beside her, copying her movements clumsily.
She laughed softly.
"You don't have to be careful. The soil won't bite."
He glanced at her.
"I know that."
"Then stop looking at it as if it'll eat you."
He huffed a quiet breath through his nose; not quite a laugh, but close.
It surprised him.
They worked in silence after that.
The earth was cool under his gloves, the scent of herbs sharp but clean.
His hands stopped shaking after a while.
He didn't notice until she looked over and smiled.
"You're calmer today."
"Maybe."
"That's good."
The conversation drifted into easy fragments; small talk, short questions.
Lilliana mentioned that the academy was already preparing for the festival.
He asked what she planned to do about it, but Lilliana said she hadn't decided yet, then asked about him.
He thought about it briefly.
"I don't know."
He had never thought about it.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
The morning passed slowly, in a good way.
They moved from one patch of soil to the next, replanting, trimming, or watering.
As the sun climbed higher, Lilliana brought out a pitcher of water and two cups, handing him one.
"Take a break," she said, sitting down on the bench.
Soren followed, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.
For a while, they just sat there, the sound of water dripping from the leaves filling the silence.
It was almost comforting.
"You know," she began, voice light. "I really didn't take you for someone who would enjoy gardening."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I don't mean anything bad by it. It's just that, usually, nobles avoid anything related to getting their hands dirty, besides fighting that is."
He blinked, then smiled faintly.
"It was fun."
Her lips curved upward, her face beaming.
"I'm glad."
The small exchange left a strange warmth in his chest.
It felt… normal.
When he set his cup down, she leaned back slightly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
"You seem a little more like yourself."
"What do you mean?"
"You're talking more, and you're becoming a little rough around the edges again. I missed that part of you."
He looked away.
"I wasn't trying to be different."
"I know," she said gently. "That's what makes it nice to see again."
The words sat heavy in his chest, not in a painful way, more like something he hadn't realised he had been missing.
Being seen.
Being acknowledged.
The breeze stirred, carrying a mixture of scents from the nearby flowers.
The quiet between them was nice.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
A few hours later, they packed up the tools and baskets.
Soren helped her carry a small crate of herbs back toward her dorm.
She reached for it, but he pulled it closer to his chest.
"I've got it."
She smiled.
"You don't have to do everything yourself, you know."
"It's fine, I can do it."
"I know, but you don't have to," she said.
He didn't answer, but his grip on the crate loosened a little.
When they reached her door, she pushed it open with her shoulder and gestured for him to set the crate on the table.
Her dorm was small and warm, the flowers and plants everywhere making the space feel alive.
"Do you want some tea, or are you just going to let it get cold again?" she teased lightly as she filled the kettle.
Soren let out a quiet breath.
"It wasn't on purpose."
"I know," she said with a smile. "So do you want some?"
"Sure."
A brief chuckle escaped Lilliana's lips.
The sound made something stir in his chest again, something unfamiliar.
While the water boiled, she leaned against the counter, studying him.
"You've been trying hard, haven't you?"
He blinked.
"Trying?"
"To go back to normal."
Her eyes softened.
"It shows."
He glanced away, his throat tightening.
"I don't know if I'm doing it right."
"There's no right way," she said. "Only your way."
He didn't respond, but the tension in his jaw eased slightly.
When the kettle was ready, they sat together at the small table.
Lilliana stirred her coffee absentmindedly, then smiled faintly.
"You really do look more like yourself today."
He frowned again, still unsure whether he was doing enough.
"You're doing fine," Lilliana said, cutting through his thoughts.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Soren's hand brushed lightly against the edge of his cup, the porcelain warm beneath his fingertips.
Lilliana broke the quiet.
"Can I ask you something?"
He nodded.
"When you're scared… what helps?"
He hesitated, taken off guard by the question.
"I don't know…"
If it had been the past, he might have said the touch of those close to him, but he couldn't say that anymore.
"Hmm…" She tapped the table a couple of times, lost in thought.
"Why…?" he asked cautiously.
"I just want to know how to make things easier for you."
He stared at her for a long moment, unsure of what to say.
Eventually, he muttered.
"You already are. Much more than you know."
Her hand, resting on the table, stilled.
Her eyes softened even further, though she didn't smile this time, just watched him quietly, her throat tightening with something she didn't understand yet.
••✦ ♡ ✦•••
When Soren finally stood to leave, the light outside had already turned pink.
He paused at the door.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "For today."
"You're welcome. Come by whenever you want to. I'm always here for you."
He gave a small nod, pulling his hood up.
Just as he turned to go, her lips parted once more.
"You're doing well, Ren. Even if you can't see it yet."
He didn't look back, but she caught the faint curve of his lips before he disappeared down the corridor.
When the door closed, Lilliana let out a slow breath she hadn't realised she was holding.
Her hand lingered over the spot on the table where his cup had been.
"Even just for a few hours…" she murmured, her voice soft. "He seemed lighter."
She smiled subtly, brushing her thumb across the rim of her cup.
"Then maybe there's hope after all."
————「❤︎」————